Spirit Flight



I have an anniversary, of sorts, coming up. A time, a marker placed on the calendar turning over the leaves of days, moving through the passing of years converging with time now.

It is a significant date for me. A notable occasion and while I tell myself, don’t make a big deal of it, it’s just ‘a date’, I feel the swell of memory, of gratitude, of appreciation welling up, sweeping over the intervening years from what was then to what is now. I feel the lightness of being and I rejoice.

Ten years is a long time. It is a short time. It is no time. It just is. Whatever I make it, it becomes part of the flow of my life moving in and out. It becomes part of the journey from there to here. It becomes and is, all part of the undertow, the ebb and flow, the washing over and the moving into living every day with joy and gratitude.

I have an anniversary edging its way onto the horizon. I want to scour my memory banks, dredge through my veins cleaning out all remnants of ‘those times’ to free my blood to flow clear today.

I feel the presence of those days more at this time of year. This is the time I was ‘disappeared’. These are the months when I was not alive. Not here. Not present. These are the days when I waited, frightened, alone, terrified, yearning for release. Waiting to die. Those were the days. This is now.

I live. Free. I live. Alive. I life in the flow of life all around, gratitude swelling my heart to bursting. Love beating a fierce tattoo within my being all present, all here, all encompassed by life in the rapture of now.

It will be ten years this May since that morning I awoke and was given the gift of my life. Freedom. Release. Ten years since the fear that encased my heart with invisible bonds were broken. Ten years.

A decade.

A time of growing. Of deepening. Of becoming.

A time of celebrating all that is true and beautiful and wondrous. A time of letting go. Of releasing. Of forgiving. Of loving.

A time to reflect upon and see how far I’ve come since that morning in May when I sat in catatonic disbelief that what I feared the most, his disappearing from my life, was the one thing that could set me free.

I am in awe of the power of love and forgiveness. I am in awe the healing that comes when I let go of fear and stand with love in the broken places.

I am in awe.

I have an anniversary coming up. I don’t know how I’ll mark the day, but I know, this time is a time to rejoice, to cherish, to celebrate all that I am when I let go of fearing who I am is not enough.

I am, me. And that’s enough for me.

May your day be filled with the wonder and joy of knowing there is no one else just like you in the world. You are unique. A gift. A wondrous being of light. A magnificent soul of love and beauty. May you radiate love and joy in everything you do, through everything you are and may you know you are loved, just the way you are.

We carry only Love

St. Patrick lived on an island, the green island, Eire. He wasn’t from there. He came as a slave long before he became a Bishop and then a saint.

Today, the day of his death many centuries ago, is the day we celebrate his life with parades and wearing green and drinking green beer and dancing Irish jigs.

It is also the date of the death of my brother, George, and his wife Roz. They died, sixteen years ago on a long stretch of road that lay like a grey ribbon bisecting the snow-covered prairies on either side of their car as they drove away from their daughters into a destiny they could not imagine. Theirs was a fiery death. Small vehicle meets huge transport truck. The driver of the semi came away unscathed. At least physically. I don’t know about emotionally or mentally. I’m sure it was catastrophic to him. To witness this tiny compact car bearing down on his front end. To be helpless to avoid the collision that took the lives of two people he’d never met. Did he have nightmares after the accident? Did he wonder what he could have done differently? Does he still drive a semi?

It was so unexpected. Inexplicable. Such a loss. Was it a miscalculation? A momentary loss of attention or a desperate attempt to calm the turmoil and chaos that was unfolding around them?

We will never know.

What we do know is that we loved them. They were our family. They will always live in our hearts.

Rest in peace George and Roz. May you know it is only love you have left behind. Only love we carry for you in our hearts.


I awoke on Thursday morning with the words to a poem writing themselves in my head as my dream slipped from memory. This morning, it happened the same way. Both are about my brother.  It makes sense. He’s always on my mind at this time of year.

Did You Know?       and     And Now You’re Gone


I fell asleep. I am awake.

“It’s all too easy to sit back, observe what the problems are, and fall into a state of despair or cynicism. It takes spiritual courage to step forward and begin to take responsibility for the solutions.” Andrew Cohen

It has been a busy last few weeks. From meditating with Mark Nepo at the beginning of February to organizing a workshop for a 100 people on the 26th to producing a 15 minute documentary on Housing First and showcasing it at a Community Summit for 450 people last week, while also writing, February flew by leaving me breathless in its passing.

Time to slow down, breathe deeply and begin again.

Always begin again.

Perhaps that should be my mantra for 2013. Always begin again.

In the Bhagavad Ghita it is written that, Curving back on myself I begin again and again.

Curving back on myself I come back to this point where I must breathe, deeply, and settle into my being present, right now, right here in this moment. In this moment are all the moments that happened in the past. The nothing and the everything that ever was.

In this moment is all I have learned and experienced and known and been on this 14 billion year evolutionary journey to get to this moment right now. This moment where everything is changed from what it was before and everything will change in the moments to come. It is the way of the world. The way of life. The call of the eternal evolutionary impulse that has looked after the future of all since time eternal in its conscious desire to create better in a world of chaos.

The world around us is built upon all those moments, all those knowings and unknownings we have not yet made manifest in our world around us. And sometimes, in that knowing and unknowning I find myself hesitating. Sometimes, I fear what is next and cling to what is now in the hopes it will always be.

To move away from this moment right now where I can rest in what is, requires courage. It requires a commitment and willingness to participate in the evolutionary impulse  beyond my capacity to see and feel and know and be what is. It requires a willingness to let go.

I don’t like letting go. In fact, I resist letting go. I resist leaping. I resist undoing what is done so that I can curve back on myself and begin again and again.

I notice my resistance most in those times when I create such busy-ness in my life I do forget to breathe. In those moments, I don’t ‘let go’ so much as let drop. I let those things that require my conscious attention fall away so that I can focus on the task at hand without the distraction of the daily details of living interfering with my progress.

It’s a good thing — sometimes — it means I get the job done.

It’s not a good thing in others ways — because in my singular focus I can lose sight of not just the daily details, I can lose sight of the bigger picture, the greater context of being human in the 21st century.

I can forget my role in the evolutionary impulse.

Grounded in my timelines and outcomes, I forget to pay attention to how I am being in the world around me. And in my forgetfulness, I let myself slip into the confusion of believing I am not doing enough, I am not good enough, not enough. I fall into that disillusionment fraught space where I wonder…. ‘what’s the point’?  In that place, I don’t return phone calls, I don’t answer emails, I don’t turn up, conscious and aware of my responsibility to be present.

And in my lack of presence, I create less of what I want in the world.

Time to take a breath. Get present. Get back to what I know creates more of what I want in my life, and in the world around me. Time to let go of feeling the despair of having to backtrack and pick up the pieces. Time to fall instead into the grace of knowing as Deepak Chopra writes in his forward to Andrew Cochen’s book, “Evolutionary Enlightenment”, “The divine plan doesn’t need you in order to succeed. But you can choose to have it succeed through you.”

I choose to have it succeed through me. I choose to begin again, to open my consciousness and conscience to being fully present and aware of my role in living up to my higher truths and passionate desire to be part of the solutions to create a more vibrant, beautiful and loving world.


And Interview and A Poem

My friend, Mark Kolke, has humbled me with an interview on his website, FACILITY Calgary.

I don’t know about you, but when someone writes about me, I feel very uncomfortable — and odd. He makes me sound so…. real and different, all in the same breath.

Thanks Mark for honouring me. For sharing your light to create a place for mine to shine.

May we all shine today in the brilliance of living wildly in love with life in the rapture of now (and that happens to be the theme of my Poem for today – a coincidence as I didn’t know Mark was posting his interview today!) — Living at the Speed of Life.